CHUCK LORRE PRODUCTIONS, #86

Depression. Sadness. Grief. The blues. Self-pity. Melancholy. Regret. Remorse. Low. Broken-hearted. Down-trodden. Morose. These are but a few of the words that come to mind when trying to describe my mood as of late. Now before you call a suicide prevention number on my behalf, please know that I am aware that the condition these words describe will pass. The problem as I see it is not the condition but the feeling implied by my gloomy list of words (I can't believe I forgot to put 'gloomy' on the list). The feeling is so bad that my tendency in the past has been to feel anger whenever sadness threatened, for the simple reason that sadness feels worse than anger. Anger at least can flow outwards. Sadness flows in. On the other hand, anger generates road rage and getting your head caved in by a guy in a pickup truck with a tire iron, while sadness inspires you to watch unbelievably bad TV to distract you from feeling sadness. And, of course, both sadness and anger stem from fear -- fear of losing what you have or fear of not getting what you want. And fear stems from the tightly-held belief that what you have and/or want is even remotely important. To be fearless is to be free from desire -- even desire for one's own life. Don't get me wrong, I'm not even close to that consciousness. Heck, as soon as I finish this vanity card I'll probably go watch the Oxygen Channel.